Shades of Hojo
by Salome Sensei
Summary: Drabbles & oneshots show various sides of the Hojo we know and love or cringe at. Who knows what goes on under that cheerful, boy-next-door veneer? Adults only, please.
1. Faith

Faith

Summary: Hojo faces the truth, as he sees it. Drabble for issekiwa (250 word max).

I can't say I didn't see it coming. Though I did a superb job of denial for a while. She was at school less and less, and the illnesses she allegedly suffered got more and more obscure, increasingly bizarre. I found herbs and tinctures so rare even their sellers were doubtful as to their efficacy or even their appropriateness. But it was not because I actually believed it, any of it. Contrary to popular belief, I'm not a fool. I prefer to see myself as an optimist. Faith in normalcy and ample fortitude, I guess you could say. I argued convincingly to myself that whatever Higurashi-san was going through would someday end, and she'd realize that I have always been here, waiting, patient and true. No matter what oats she was sowing (and though no one would guess it, I envisioned everything from drug addiction to single motherhood), she would eventually come to see that I was right for the long-term when the short-term ended.

And now? I face a new truth. She is gone forever, her mother says, and I must move on. It is time for the next phase of my life, now that this "puppy love" has proved untenable, unreal. "Thank you for your kindness," I say, bowing deeply, urging her to keep the little phial of rare salts to purify the sinuses. Sooner or later, she will return. Sooner or later, my faith will be rewarded.


	2. Illumination

Illumination

Summary: Hojo x Mrs. Higurashi luv. Originally written for iyfic_contest's "Sunrise" theme.

I wake to the sun's morning rays as they streak through the large open window and strike my face like Buddha's vengeance. I blink and turn away. I look at floor before me, unsure of where I am. I am naked, the unfamiliar blue and white quilt covers little of me. I sit up, alone in this room on a bed much larger than my own. My eyes begin to focus and I see there is a second pillow beside the one I was lying on. It has a head-shaped dent in it. Whose bed? Whose head? Nothing comes.

Across the room, I see a little tufted chair with my clothing laid neatly over it. Pants, then shirt, then undershirt, then underpants, then socks: all neatly stacked there for me to retrieve. I cough, taste the stale burn of sake at the back of my throat. Beside the chair I note a large, pale, wooden bureau covered with perfume bottles and knickknacks and a little oval-framed photo. I rise, approach it: the picture is of a man I do not recognize. I shake my head and decide I would do best to dress and then find out where I am and how I got here. And I need to go to the bathroom badly.

Stepping out of the room as I zip up my pants, I am confronted again with the sun's wrath as it spears me from the window at the end of the hallway. My eyes water and I give thanks that the bathroom is the very next door on the left. I stumble in and relieve myself, remarking at how sticky I am down there. Well, it would not be the first time I have had a wet dream. Because I am saving myself for Kagome, I try not to judge my growing body too harshly for its impatience. But where have I slept…and was I alone? I wash quickly and head back into the hallway, facing away from the unforgiving light and toward the stairs that lead down to where my overtired, blunted senses take in the sound and smell of frying eggs.

The sunshine that has blinded me thus far finally sheds useful light as it silhouettes a smiling Mrs. Higurashi, who turns to face me at the bottom of the stairs. Oh, heavens…

"Ohayo," she says, brightly.

Everything returns in a rush: her soothing voice, quietly telling me that Kagome is in love with another boy, that I am a "lovely young man," that some things are just not meant to be. I remember my tears and china cups of sake. I remember the way she squeezed my hand and the kindness in her eyes—and how those eyes drew me.

She looks at me again, now, and her eyes sparkle with experience and self-assurance. "Come, have some breakfast. Jii-chan and Souta have already gone out to weed the garden. It's just you and I, Hojo-kun."

Is it just the light, shining from behind on her short, wavy hair, or has she always been so pretty? Now, more specific images come in flashes as she moves in and out of the sunlight: our lips pressed together; her hands on my torso…then lower; her murmured words of encouragement and appreciation; sounds in my throat I have never made before; blissful release…

I blush and blink away the visions as she repeats my name. I clear my throat and pull out a chair for her, then join her at the table. Brightness fills the little kitchen. My head is suddenly so clear. The sunrise has brought enlightenment.


	3. Making It Better

**Making It Better**

Author's Note: Written for my imouto-chan** mythnlynx** as part of the Secret Santa fun at the LJ comm **inuholidays**. She wanted some Hojo/Kagome adult fic with a focus on "relieving tension," and this dark scenario came to mind. It differs from my usual style and tone. It has a certain bleak power I'm proud of. Not for the fluffy of heart.

When had guilt turned to curiosity and curiosity to determination? Certainly, Inuyasha was no help. "Leave the idiot alone," he told Kagome as they watched Hojo slowly walk his bicycle down the sidewalk outside the school.

"But he looks so sad…all the time now," Kagome said, biting her lip.

"Eh, he'll find someone of his own, sooner or later," Inuyasha scoffed. Then, "C'mon, Kagome, I'm hungry." He had been waiting for hours, sitting on the school roof in that confining cap, chasing pigeons, and imagining the taste of ramen…and other things. That the wonders of Ninja food could be had so easily in Kagome's era was a non-stop, mouth-watering delight to him. But since they had begun -- tentatively at first and now more eagerly -- to explore the wonders of each others' bodies, bowls full of rich, steaming noodles came in a definite second to arms full of soft, warm flesh.

"He was so sweet to me, Inuyasha. And I treated him so badly," Kagome continued. Her sympathy was real, growing, like her maturity, in proportion to the love that had finally blossomed openly between her and the hanyou. Now that Inuyasha, and with him the rapture of young romantic love, was at last hers, Kagome's heart swelled, allowing her to truly take in the wonders of life around her for the first time. And perhaps something more. "I need to do something for Hojo," she said, determination in her voice.

Inuyasha groaned. He knew that tone. It was the same one that took pleasure in commanding him to sit. His ears drooped beneath the hat, as did his expression. His hunger would have to be sated with ramen for now. Lovemaking was going to have to be put on hold until his miko had what she wanted. "I'm gettin' lunch," he said with a shrug and stalked off. Let Kagome figure out how to deal with her stupid guilt. He'd meet her back home where he'd get Mrs. H to satisfy his stomach.

"Ok," she said, forgoing the good-bye kiss because they were in public. As Inuyasha walked off in one direction, Kagome followed Hojo in the other. She noted the pair of girls who stood nearby, pouting in his wake. She recognized them only vaguely, but she was so often away from school now that it would have surprised her to actually know any of his admirers anymore. Yet he always had them. He had always been so kind, so considerate, and handsome too -- in his safe, proper way. Why had he not replaced her in his affections? It had been several months since she had summoned the courage -- and the trust in Inuyasha's ability to pass for human (as a pop music performer, of course) -- to introduce Hojo, and her girlfriends, to Inuyasha. She proudly presented him as her fiancé and Inuyasha only flinched a little at the word.

So, Hojo knew now, and he no longer sought her out. For a time, he still paid respectful visits to her family, bringing the occasional herbal remedy for her alleged illnesses, perhaps hanging onto the hope that she truly was ailing and not just running off and risking her future by skipping classes only to spend time with her strange betrothed. But then that ceased, too. Eventually, he no longer spoke to her at school when she was in attendance. When she said hello, he replied with a forced cheerfulness that stung her heart, especially as the false smile faded as he went on his way. Kagome would turn to watch him go and see the gentle light in his eyes replaced by a cold, almost defiant glare that could not help but remind her of Inuyasha's in those first, tense days of their quest.

Feeling responsible for this change, Kagome experienced the desire -- the need -- to comfort. And perhaps, if she was fully honest with herself, something more. This new, wretched Hojo gave her a glimpse of hidden depth within him, a spark of fire she never would have suspected was there. With characteristic rashness, Kagome called out Hojo's name and ran to catch up with him.

"Good afternoon, Higurashi-san," he said, pausing, the artificial smile appearing but not reaching his eyes.

"Hojo-kun," she said, smiling warmly in hopes of melting the blank gaze she evoked from her former suitor. It was all her fault, and she must make it right. "Are you prepared for your examinations?" she asked, with false cheer.

"Does it give you pleasure to torture me, Higurashi-san?" Hojo replied, as calmly as if he were actually answering her question.

Kagome's mouth dropped open. "I…I…N-no, Hojo-kun!" she sputtered. How could he think such a thing? Speak to her in such a way? She only wanted to help!

"Your lies disgust me," he whispered, eyes narrowing to slits.

Kagome gasped. That look -- from a Hojo she did not, could not know -- burned through her. She shuddered. And unexpected wetness pooled between her thighs. "Please, Hojo-kun," she whimpered. "Can't we…talk? I…I want to…fix this."

"Fix this?" he mocked, his mouth twisting into an angry smile. "You tore out my heart and threw it back in my face for your pretty-boy rock star. How do you plan to 'fix' that?"

"I don't know," Kagome said, shaking her head, her cheeks red and her whole body flushed with shame. "I'm…sorry."

At those words, Hojo's expression softened. His eyes were still cold, but the hostility that made her shake and burn inside was tamed, at least for the moment. "No, iI'm/i sorry, Higurashi-san. I shouldn't talk to you this way. What's done is done. Good bye, Higurashi-san."

There was a firmness, a confidence in his voice, along with that edge of anger. As he turned to go, Kagome knew she should, too. But she couldn't. "Hojo-kun," she said, softly, "can we go somewhere and…talk? Please?"

He turned and fixed her with that strange hard stare again. It froze her in place, kept her from breathing.

After long, silent moments, his eyes turned away and, over his shoulder, he offered, "All right, Higurashi-san, but not where others can overhear. My parents are at work. We can go to my house."

That she had never been to Hojo's home and that he would suggest such a thing now made Kagome's heart race. It was not appropriate, but then, nothing about this was appropriate. And yet she did not hesitate to follow behind, quietly and obediently.

Their heels clicked along the pavement; his bicycle wheels ticked as Hojo pushed it along beside him. His back was firm and straight and he did not turn even once to look at Kagome or see that she was keeping up. Kagome felt humbled and small yet resolved. Somehow, this was going to turn out right. She would make it so. But exactly what "right" entailed she did not yet know.

It was not long before they turned up the walk to Hojo's door. The house was unassuming, small and plain with a tidy little garden and large windows. He parked his bike and walked to the door. He unlocked it and paused without turning for a minute that felt like forever to Kagome. Would he turn her away now? Perhaps he should. Perhaps she should go. She saw the tension in his shoulders tighten, then at last release. He turned the key and pushed the door open; he stepped back and looked at Kagome. "Come in, Higurashi-san."

Kagome nodded her head and stepped inside. She removed her shoes and put them on the little mat at the door. Hojo did the same. He walked down the little hallway ahead and said, "I could make tea." His voice was flat, expressionless.

"Thank you, Hojo-kun. But you are too gracious already. Maybe I should go?"

He turned to face her, and his expression was unreadable. "No," he snapped. Then his voice softened: "Let us go into the front room…and talk."

The energy was shifting and Kagome, sensitive to the auras of others in the Feudal era, was at last summoning that mature gift and beginning to more effectively read Hojo. He did want her to stay. He was, as he always had been, drawn to her. And his newfound determination compelled her. He turned from his path to the kitchen back up to the front of the house, and Kagome quietly followed the slender boy down the hall and into a room with a sofa, several chairs and little tables, all decorated with a soft, feminine hand. There was a large bouquet of flowers on an end table and delicate sketches of lotus and cherry blossoms on the walls. "This room is lovely, Hojo-kun," Kagome exclaimed.

Hojo extended a hand to encourage her to sit. He smiled a little and shrugged. "My mother enjoys decorating." Then, he walked to the large window and half-closed the blinds. "We can have some privacy this way," he explained.

Kagome nodded, a little knot beginning to tighten in her stomach. Hojo's eyes looked so darkly adult in the soft shadows of the gently lit room. Kagome shivered as the boy sat down beside her.

"What is it you wish to say to me, Higurashi-san?" he asked, his voice quiet and calm while his eyes danced with heat and passion.

Kagome's voice was a whisper: "Please, Hojo-kun…"

"Kagome," he whispered back, then took her mouth with his. The kiss was clumsy but powerful, his lips warm and soft as they parted hers and his tongue plunged inside.

Stunned by her own naïveté as much as Hojo's ardor, Kagome's body went limp, her mouth unresisting. Hojo's hands went immediately to her blouse, unbuttoning it with resolute if inexperienced fingers. Was it shock, guilt, or curiosity that kept Kagome from fighting him? Neither answered the question in word or deed, as Hojo reached inside the shirt and the plain white bra to fondle and squeeze her breasts with his cool, firm hands. Hojo grunted his pleasure into her mouth as Kagome's breath left her in a rush.

Hojo pushed Kagome back onto the sofa with the force of his kiss, and while one hand continued to knead her breast eagerly, the other delved lower and sought a way into her panties. Kagome at last made a soft sound of complaint, but Hojo devoured it with his zealous lips and at last found his prize. Around the little elastic band his fingers wound their way to find the soft curls and slick entrance. He pushed two fingers roughly inside and found her wet and yielding here, too. His cock throbbed in time with his thrusting fingers and Kagome's soft sounds. He would not stop until she yielded all.

Refusing to break the oral embrace that seemed to fuel his action without thought of consequences, Hojo withdrew his fingers and undid his pants, releasing the thick shaft he knew only too well from nightly masturbation to thoughts of this very moment. In truth, the moment differed significantly from this urgent madness, but right now that was unimportant. Kagome was his, was not fighting him or rejecting him or agreeing to go on dates she had no intention of showing up to because she was off with her white-haired freak. No, Kagome was here now, wet and his for the taking. And take her he would. From his hunched position, tongue still probing Kagome's mouth as he listened to her soft whimpers, he pumped his cock, feeling its heat and rigidness, secure and strong in his fist. He leaned forward and aimed it blindly at his target, pushing her panties aside again and rubbing to find entrance.

But something stopped him at the moment when his sensitive, dripping head met her warmth. He broke the kiss with a gasp and looked down at Kagome's face. She was pale and open-mouthed. He waited. She did not speak, just panted, holding his gaze, her eyes truly unreadable to the confused youth. Was this what he wanted? Was ishe/i what he wanted?

As if in slow-motion, Hojo rose, tucking away the monster that was even now wilting away with his determination to claim Kagome. He stood, looking down at the disheveled beauty of the girl as she watched him with wide eyes.

"Hojo-kun?" Kagome whimpered, indecision still in her voice and her eyes. In her heart as well. She did not love Hojo. She loved Inuyasha. Then why had she allowed this to go so far? And why had Hojo stopped?

"Please go, Higurashi-san," Hojo said, his eyes finally turning away. No, this was not what he wanted. Nor she.

Kagome sat up, suddenly fully aware of her wanton posture, the disarray of her clothing. Hastily, she righted her garments and stood before Hojo, this boy, this stranger who had always been a stranger. And she had just nearly allowed him to… With a final glance at his downcast face, she fled to the door, slipped into her shoes, and escaped down the walkway.

Who she truly was and how she would face Inuyasha now was a silent torment in her heart as she slowly walked home.


	4. Sesshoumaru's Pet

Author's Note: Lil Sesshoumaru/Hojo Giftfic for Xgrenade, originally posted at LJ Comm Inuholidays. Adults only.

Sesshoumaru's Pet

"And so Hojo-kun swallowed the shard that Kagome-sama had hidden in the rice bun so that her mother would not see it and the next time she came through the well, Hojo followed her and tripped on a stair and ended up with us!" Rin chanted the little tale as if it truly made sense. Perhaps, to her, it did.

Hojo nodded as he lay at Sesshoumaru's feet. The demon possessively drew long, elegant claws through his hair. What matter how he came to be the prized pet of the Lord of the Western Lands? While Rin was yet far too young to claim and his brother was now too grown to take easily, this one sufficed. More than sufficed, if truth be told. He was decorative in his short robe and slave's collar, and he took cock as if he was born for it. Mouth or ass, his pet was always ready, had taken the gift of his noble shaft perfectly from the very first encounter. He grew hard just thinking of it.

"Rin," Sesshoumaru said in his customary quiet, even tone. "Fetch us a wreath of flowers to adorn our pet."

"Yes, Sesshoumaru-sama!" Rin tittered, always eager to play with Hojo as her Lord permitted. She quickly skipped out of sight.

"Join her," he commanded to the sullen Jaken, who long dreamed of the kind of ecstasy he knew his Lord gave to this pitiful mortal in his service. But then, he still received his regular beatings, so he knew he still ranked high in his Lord's life, and rose to chase Rin down as he called her name.

"And while she is away," Sesshoumaru continued, tipping Hojo's innocent face up with a claw, "let us put our time to good use." He reached into his hakama and brought out his pet's favorite toy.

Hojo beamed. Life was perfect.


	5. The Luckiest Man in the World

**Author's Note: **Written as an anonymous "Great Pumpkin" gift for Mir, based on her fabulous cracky series of fics depicting a wild, loving, post-manga relationship between Hojo and Mrs. Higurashi. MA but not graphic. Watch out for the surprise ending!**  
**

The Luckiest Man in the World

How many times in our lives do we think we've hit the highest of heights, the pinnacle of happiness, the zenith of our existence, only to find it only gets better? I pity those who can't say, like me, that life has blessed them with wonders and joys too numerous to name. I know some can't even say "life is good" and mean it. But as for me and mine? The gods have been good to us, so good that I just can't keep it to myself.

When I saw the ad on the back of a box of _Raaki Charamus_ cereal asking customers to enter their "Luckiest Man in the World" contest by writing an essay to tell why they should win a box of solid gold Raaki Charamus, I knew I had to do it. With my dear wife and three children, including twins, to support and now another on the way in a risky pregnancy that means I must stay home and not work, I could use a little financial help. And, most importantly, I am, without doubt, the Luckiest Man Alive.

Let me tell you my story.

Once upon a time, I was an average high school boy. Not a bad looker, with girls finding me sweet and asking me to take them out all the time. But I loved only one girl, and she did not love me. No matter how I pampered and cared about her—bringing her cures for her ill health and helping her with homework whenever she wished—she favored another and, eventually, ran off with him once she finally graduated. I was distraught, lonely, and frustrated.

My first knowledge that I was truly lucky happened when the girl's mother invited me in to explain when my beloved Kagome fled with her rockstar lover. Mrs. H patiently told me that she had long loved this strange fellow from far away, and that I must accept that she belonged to him. She fed me mochi cakes and tea, patted my hand, and dried my tears. Such a sympathetic soul! I could not believe my good fortune in finding someone to share my sadness with. She knew how I felt about her daughter and empathized with my loneliness and sorrow. She, too, missed her girl, and together we found comfort.

I began to come to see Mrs. H regularly for much needed doses of encouragement. The girls at school were so immature, I was finding, never appreciating my steadfast kindness, my studiousness, and my preference for bicycles to cars and classical music to rock and roll. But not Mrs. H. She would send her son to play with friends and her father off to the garden, and then she and I would listen to radio broadcasts of traditional Japanese music concerts and eat the pastries and other goodies I would bring. I grew aware of how foolish I had been to squander gifts on young girls when a mature woman like Mrs. H could so much more appreciate me! We became fast friends, and I felt honored…and still luckier.

Who knew life had even more and better in store for me! One day, Mrs. H took my hand and asked me if I had ever kissed a woman before. Of course, I had not. And I will say no more on that subject (because I consider myself a gentleman) except that Mrs. H earned my first kiss, my true love, and, after a short time, my hand in marriage.

Three years have passed, and the blessings of luck from the gods have given us our wonderful children, twins and a daughter who is the apple of her daddy's eye. My wife, a woman of strong moods and great love, has given me much responsibility in caring for them and for her. I cherish her leadership as she makes our life wonderful in every way.

If there was one little nagging problem in our life—and I do not mean that as a critique of my wife's tendency to be demanding of me, that is one of her virtues!—it was that we wanted to have more children and learned, much to our dismay, that, after our daughter's difficult birth, it was no longer possible for my wife. We knew we should be grateful. She had already given birth to her first daughter and son, and then three more with me. And yet we wished to have one more son, to name him after me, and to raise our perfect four in perfect happiness.

But my luck proved astonishing even here—more astonishing than any story perhaps yet told in the lives of mortals. Yes. One morning after a sad evening of mourning for our son that would never be born, along with conciliatory lovemaking intended to bring us closer yet help us purge our pain that I will describe only in saying it involved paddles and a rather sturdy whip that my dear wife wields better than any lion-tamer, I felt a kind of illness I had never experienced before. I could not hold down my breakfast and there was an odd dizziness and yet fullness within me. When I fainted, my wife packed up the kids and drove me to the emergency room where doctors were baffled and sent me to gastro-intestinal experts, proctologists, a nerve specialist, and a panel of psychiatrists. Finally, when no answers could be found to my condition, my wife's father, old Jii-chan, wisely advised us to seek the advice of an old healer woman he knew.

Can you imagine my shock and my joy when the healer pronounced me perfectly healthy—and pregnant?

Now, four months later, I happily attach a picture of my growing belly to share the truth of this luck beyond any luck yet known to humankind with you.

In the end, whether or not I win the contest (and even as I continue to have troubling morning sickness and cravings for raw shark flesh covered in chocolate sauce), I know that I am indeed the Luckiest Man in the World.

Sincerely,

Hojo


	6. A Deal's a Deal

Author's Note: Originally written for **InuRomp**'s Hojo/Souta prompt with 300-word limit.

Warnings: Yaoi, Shouta, dub-con

A Deal's a Deal

A deal's a deal, and Souta had agreed. Though he sometimes wished he hadn't, and sometimes he cried, he was a big boy now and kept his promises.

They were like brothers, Hojo had said, and in a way it was true. They both loved Kagome, missed her. And Hojo had been so good to him since Kagome had gone, taking him to the movies like she had—before she met Inuyasha and went to the past. From that very first time, she had been lost in that world, even when she was home again. And Hojo was here. He helped him with his homework, too, and he was much better at it than Kagome ever was. Plus, Mom liked him. He was so polite and helped with dishes and gardening so Souta could go play with his friends.

So he had to do it. Do _that_. That thing Hojo wanted to do that he didn't really want to do because it hurt and made tears come to his eyes, but then it also felt good after a while, and Hojo tried not to be too rough and even used that lube stuff he bought when Souta bled that one time.

After a while, Hojo even stopped calling him Kagome when he did it, talked sweet to him and told him they were brothers, more than brothers. And anyhow, a deal was a deal. And Souta had agreed.


End file.
